Rules of Life as Taught by One Mr Marcus Flint
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: I have a strict set of rules, one set that keeps my life in balance. Watch now as she breaks every single one of them. Rated M for later chapters


The Rule of Life as Taught by one Mr. Marcus Flint

Rule One: Never, ever let a woman get the best of you.

The men that fell in love with my mother, well they never followed that rule. The rule that a woman should never get the best of you, that is. Well, my mother certainly got the best of twelve, maybe thirteen men. All the while I watched, while each one got played completely out of all their money by my mother and dumped out back on the streets. I secretly swore each time that I myself never become one of those men, to be bested ever by a woman. Even in school, I was never bested-not even in Quidditch by Angelina Johnson, not me-never. And now, this is my most important rule of life. Never let a woman get the best of you.

I, Marcus Flint, have the good life. Oh yes, I have a very good life. Between work, which is playing Quidditch all day for the English and the constant nonstop parties at night, I am certainly enjoying my life at the moment. There is nothing I haven't been able to do since becoming a Quidditch Star, nowhere I haven't been allowed to go and no girl I haven't been able to have. I'm rich, I'm famous and let's face it I'm stunningly handsome. Merlin, I was voted number one hottest wizards in witches weekly this year. This is exactly how I imagined my life would be, completely amazing.

And tonight, everyone here showed up for me. Yes, they're all here at this club because I'm here. As the music blares from the speakers, the pretty witches dance in glittering short dresses, I sat back sipping my firewhiskey with my teammates on the white V.I.P couch, surrounded by throngs of the most beautiful, richest, and drunkest women I'd ever seen. Montague has one hanging off his arm, playing with his hair in her bejeweled fingers, Johnson has a woman sitting next to him, laughing insanely at a stupid joke he's told, and me? Well I've got two or three beautiful blonde witches on my arm, begging for me to take them home. With a wink and I smile, I could have either.

"Excuse me ladies," I said standing up, "I'll be back with some drinks."

The witches giggled flirtingly and winked as I stood up and carried my drink over my head. Weaving between the crowds of people, I get hello's from people I don't know and smiles and winks from more beautiful women. After weaving through the crowds, I reached the bar and squeezed in through the crowd.

"'Ey, Kane, another glass, eh?" I called out shooting the man a smile and a wave. He acknowledged me and made his way back down to me, taking my glass. Then there came a voice from next to me.

"A Firewhiskey please," the soft alto voice said. That voice even sounded pretty to my ears, so I turned to take in the woman it belonged to.

And boy was she a looker with her mahogany black hair pulled back in a ponytail hanging in beautiful curls down her back that contrasted perfectly against her bright lemon dress and her profile was perfect shaped, no flaws in her skin at all. She turned her eyes to me a pair of honey gold almond shaped eyes and smiled before turning back to the bartender. This woman was completely gorgeous, one I haven't seen before.

"Haven't seen you around before," I comment, leaning back on my elbows to let my robe fall open. The crisp white shirt underneath would show my defined muscles for her.

"Obviously," she said, taking her drink in her long fingers, "I'm new."

"Oh," I answered smoothly, smiling a charming smile at her, "So, what brings you out tonight? A hot date?"

She scoffed and sipped on her firewhiskey before answering, "Hardly. I decided that I'd go out for a change."

"Oh?" I answered, raising a brow. I searched her eyes to see if my charms were working or if they weren't. But there was something strange about her gaze back, I couldn't read it, and that bothered me. I decided not to waste any more time with the games and just flirt with her.

"Are you sure you aren't out searching for a good-looking man for the night?" I asked, looking her up and down. The response I received in her eyes was full of fire.

"Depends if you found one or not," she answered, taking another sip. I took this as a cue that I've been working with her.

"You're looking at one," I said with a wink, "But careful, I go quick."

Her response was a snort and a scoff as she choked on her drink. I frowned at her.

"If that's your attempt on hitting on me, it failed miserably."

Before I could snap back at her, she was gone, whisked away in the crowd of people as the music began to play again. I sighed angrily, but thought nothing of her as I headed back to my booth, nestling down between the two blonde girls again and smiling to myself. Her haunting face, though, still remained in my brain as I looked at the dazzling blonde pair beside me. And what a pair they were, beautiful dazzling witches with straight teeth, sparkling skin and glittering eyes. I could have been completely content with these blonde witches, but no, there was another face, on with high cheekbones and a perfectly angular nose that I wanted. I curse that blasted firewhiskey.

"Hey, Flint," called the red haired beater Taylor Johnson, "What do you think? Let's head out for the night?"

I shrugged and looked out at the dance floor. Just then a lemon dress caught my eye.

"Not yet," I murmured to him before lifting up my chin, "Hey Hottie!"

The girl in the lemon dress paused and turned to face me as I sat, lounging back in my chair. Her honey eyes fueled by fire turned to look me over, and I could tell she was enjoying what she saw, so I smirked in satisfaction.

"Coming to hit on me again?" she called in a sultry voice. I felt my skin threaten to flush so I shot back at her.

"You're not worth my time, clearly," I sneered, unhappy that she embarrassed me in front of my teammates. I heard Johnson snicker under his breath, so I smirked happily at her. But there was a fire in her eyes I've never seen before, and I felt uneasy, that alone making me upset. I, Marcus Flint, never feel uneasy.

"Then why?" she asked in a sultry voice, "Are you still wasting your time with me?"

I stared at her, mouth agape, unable to come back with a retort. There was a low snicker from Johnson and Montague as she spoke, her eyelashes batting in mock flirting as she swirled her glass in her hand. I closed my mouth and clenched my jaw. She was taunting me, in the same manner I taunted her.

"I could be hoping that maybe, you'd change your mind," I said with a wink, "I am after all a the handsomest man in the club tonight, am I not ladies?"

There was a giggle from both of the blonde ladies next to me and they smiled, one cooing in my ear. I widened my smirk as she just looked at me with an incredulous look in her eyes.

"And are those people blind?" she mocked popping out one hip. Montague snickered again and I scowled at her. Her eyes glimmered with sass as she stared triumphantly at me. I couldn't believe it, she render me speechless, again!

"Come on now, play nice," I cooed, "I'm just having a little fun."

"Trying to pick up this girl, is fun?"

"Well, is it working?" I winked, smiling at her.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, princess," she mocked, "It only works for those who are looking for an arrogant prick."

"Oh come on baby," I mocked her, "It's just harmless fun, no need to get feisty. Unless, that is of course, your feisty in other ways as well."

Her eyes flared angrily at me, and I was uneasy, but I held my ground. She had already made a mockery of me, and I wasn't going to let her continue making a fool of me.

"Go find some other shag," she hissed, "That is, if you're even shaggable."

"Oh, I am very, very shaggable," I growled, standing up. Nobody, nobody makes a comment about my sexual prowess, especially not a woman, especially not her!

"Really?" she said, stepping up to look at me, "Because it seems, you're a lot of talk. Why is that, I wonder? Making up for something, you, uh lack?"

"Would you like to find out?" I answered her, thoroughly embarrassed by her comments.

"Wow, are you stepping up to the plate?"

"If you're willing to take the challenge," I answered, whispering in her ear, "But I don't play fair, ever."

"Neither do I," she answered and with that she took her heel and stepped down on my foot. I hissed out in pain and glared at the headstrong woman as she smiled sweetly before stepping back from me.

"Until you grow a set, then, I suppose," she smiling. With that she took her firewhiskey and walked away, leaving me staring, mouth agape at the woman that made a fool of me.

Rule One: Never, ever let a woman get the best of you.


End file.
